Page 32 of Murder & Mayhem

“Oh no?” he questions. “I don’t give off that asshole, thug vibe?”

“Hell, no,” I snort, chuckling. “That’s more Cain’s thing.”

“True.” The lightheartedness fades away, and a somber expression crosses his face. “After Evie was taken, I was lost. We all were. And shortly after Evie, our other friend—Beck—moved away, and Cain and I… we drifted apart, dealing with our grief in our own ways. I stumbled into The Feral Beasts—”

A small gasp of surprise escapes me. The Feral Beasts ruled this town with an iron fist until a few years ago. Their reign was violent and brutal, and their name is still said with a hint of fear. The Oliver I’ve come to know just doesn’t add up with my image of a Beast.

“I was hurt and angry and spinning out of control,” he goes on to explain. “I naively thought the Beasts could help me gain some of that control back. And for a while, they did. They provided an outlet for all those emotions I didn’t know how to process. By the time I came up for oxygen and actually paid attention to my surroundings, I was in too deep, without a fucking clue how to get out.”

I nod in understanding. Gangs like that—like the Beasts or Antonellis—they suck you in. They prey on vulnerability and youthful naivety. Blind kids with the prospect of money, cars, and girls. Then once they have you hooked, they flip the tables. You have to do whatever they want. There’s no walking away from gangs like that. Not with your life intact. Once you’re in, you’re in it for life. Nothing other than dying for the cause is acceptable.

“Anyway, eventually, they fucked themselves over, biting off more than they could chew. They got caught up in illegal shit that was beyond their capabilities. Along with a couple of others who no longer wanted to be Beasts, we helped secure their demise, but a friend of mine got injured in the process. To help ensure he and the others got away, I stayed behind when the cops came.”

“So you sacrificed yourself?” I question in awe.

He gives a nonchalant shrug. “They were teenagers. None of them should have been caught up in that mess, and they certainly didn’t deserve to spend time in prison for something they didn’t do.”

“Neither did you.”

“Maybe not, but I didn’t have as much to lose.” Despite his words, a soft smile curls on his lips, and he digs his phone out of his pocket before showing me the screen. “The two with tattoos are Aiden and Ty. They were in the Beasts with me, and then they met Sophie, Preston and Barrett.”

The photo shows all four guys surrounding a brown-haired girl. All five of them are sporting bright grins, and the way they are all pressing in on Sophie, it’s obvious they’re all more than friends. “They seem so happy,” I comment.

“Yeah.” Oliver chuckles softly, pocketing his phone. “They weren’t always. They all had to fight hard for what they have, but it all worked out for them in the end.”

“Are they… all in a relationship together?” I question hesitantly. Call me curious, especially given my feelings for Oliver and the attraction I feel toward Cain that I can’t seem to get over.

Oliver just chuckles. “Yeah. Well, they are all in a relationship with her.”

My brows scrunch together. “How does that work? Don’t they get jealous? Doesn’t all that testosterone drive her insane?” Half an hour in Cain’s presence is enough to have me climbing the walls, never mind dealing with four of him twenty-four seven. Although I could easily spend the day with Oliver… maybe her guys are more like Oliver than Cain.

“I imagine there is a lot of jealousy and one-upmanship going on. Especially in the beginning, but they make it work. Beck, the childhood friend I mentioned, he’s also in a similar relationship. It’s more common than you’d think.” He quirks a brow and a teasing smile plays along his lips. “Why? Are you interested in forming your own harem of guys?”

I choke on nothing but air. “What?! No! Definitely not,” I insist. I know he encouraged me to spend the night with Cain the other night, and he implied he knew there was something between Cain and me, but I dunno… it just seems insane that he’d be okay with sharing me. Right?

He pushes the empty food containers away and leans over, hauling me into his lap like I weigh nothing. My hands land on his shoulders, and my knees press into the carpet on either side of his hips as I straddle his waist. His fingers run through my hair, brushing it back from my face in a reverent way that matches the look on his face. I love when he touches and looks at me like that—like I’m the only thing in the world that matters to him. No one has ever taken the time to handle me with such care. It doesn’t make me feel weak or incapable like I thought it would. Instead, I just feel cherished; cared for. It’s new and exciting, anddamnI could get used to it.

“If anything did happen with you and Cain, it would be okay.” He says it so straightforwardly like we’re discussing the weather, not our relationship's complex nature.

“Well, you know we had sex.” I squirm in his lap, feeling uncomfortable discussing sex with another man while I’m pressed up against him.

“Do you want it to be more than sex?”

I scrunch my nose up, but I actually think about the question rather than just firing out a no. Do I? Cain’s got a lot of damage and the emotional capacity of an ant, but then, I’m not exactly the easiest person to be with either. “I dunno,” I eventually confess. “Even if I did. I’m pretty sure Cain doesn’t. Every time he lets me in or we have a moment, he pulls away afterward. He hasn’t even looked at me since the other night.” The morning after he got shot, he brushed right past me like I didn’t exist. Not even a goddamn thank you for saving his life. I’d heard the other guys talking before I’d intervened. They were all set to pour fucking whiskey into his wound. Not only is that a waste of excellent whiskey, but it hurts like hell and can burn the skin. Meaning the wound would take longer to heal. I mean, at least check if you have sterilized water before opting for alcohol. So yeah, getting the brush off like I was just some girl he couldn’t get rid of the morning after stung a little.

Oliver’s firm grip on my chin draws me out of my thoughts, and I focus on his blue eyes. “That’s just Cain’s way. He’s fighting it, but he cares more than he lets on. Together, the three of us could rule this town.”

“You mean if we survive that long.”

He smiles softly and closes the scant distance between us as he presses his lips to mine. I melt into him, running my hands down the front of his t-shirt until I find the hem and slip underneath, relishing the way his abs tense beneath my touch. “Guess we shouldn’t waste any more time, just in case,” he murmurs before sealing his lips to mine in a searing kiss.

The world falls away, and everything around us ceases to exist as he consumes my every thought, until we’re both naked and panting on the living room floor. He doesn’t waste any time with a warm-up, not that I need one. My pussy is already begging for him as he easily pushes inside me, sighing as if he just entered heaven.

The carpet rubs against my back with every thrust, but I barely feel the scratch as pleasure quickly overpowers everything else, until I’m screaming out Oliver’s name. He spends the rest of the night making me come over and over in every room in the apartment until, completely exhausted, we collapse into my narrow bed. The only way we both fit is if I’m sprawled on top of him, not that either of us is complaining.

With my head resting on his shoulder, I run my fingers over his Reject tattoo before turning my attention to the older one on his other pec. “How come you have two?”

His hand comes up to cover mine, resting over his heart. “The original Reaper Rejects consisted of four people; four kids. Myself, Cain, Evie, and Beck. Cain built the Rejects you know today, in her name.”

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